


I’m gigglin' (can’t let the devil have the last laugh)

by Anonymous



Series: pov rhaenys targaryen works that are "meh" + may never be finished [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A repost of a deleted fic I hated but then though fck it im anonymous anyway, Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen Live, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Elia Martell Lives, Gen, I may or may not update, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, No White Walkers, No ships only cold hard marriages, POV Rhaenys Targaryen, Queen Elia Martell, Queen Lyanna Stark, Rhaenys Targaryen Lives, Tourney at Harrenhal, Will update tags, bc this is about bad bitches, no beta we die like men, not for lyanna fans, title from a cardi b song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24128464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Fifteen years after Rhaegar brought down Robert Baratheon at the Trident, another tourney is held at Harrenhal.Rhaenys Targaryen - disillusioned, married and with child - finds her life upturned once more when her father's second queen is poisoned.
Relationships: Aegon VI Targaryen/Margaery Tyrell, Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen, Harrold Hardyng/Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Series: pov rhaenys targaryen works that are "meh" + may never be finished [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1741027
Comments: 50
Kudos: 54
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of a work I posted here some months ago before deleting. I was not happy with it, and am still not happy with it, but am putting it back here anyway because I am posting anonymously. I probably won't update it unless I find a way to make it less cheesy and more clever or something.

To any observer, the royal family would seem like a grand and fine one.

Seated in the King’s Stand, which was veiled from the sunlight by magnificent crimson drapes, sat the current members of the Targaryen Dynasty, who were all watching the tourney’s final joust at Harrenhal together. 

At the centre was the King himself, a handsome silver haired man in his prime, known for his scholarly habits and whose eyes were glazed at the scene before him. Seated besides him was his youngest son, Viserys; for whose fourteenth nameday this tourney was being held. Despite possessing Northern features and his Stark mother’s grey eyes, the boy had his father’s profile, but clearly not his disinterest, for he watched the champions with a youth’s precociousness. Prince Viserys was not well, his pale skin gaunt and eyes sunken, so His Grace suffered the tourney for the sake of his young son.

With Viserys sat his mother, the pretty Queen Lyanna, who was heavy with child and wearing a crown of blue roses. Besides her on the left side of the stand was the Queen Mother, Rhaella, a true Valyrian beauty despite her advanced age. Sitting next to her was Rhaella’s own young daughter and likeness, Daenerys, who was of an age of Viserys and draped in the same ruby silks as her mother.

On the tent’s right side sat Queen Elia, a delicate and handsome woman, bedecked in her homeland’s glittering gold. Besides her was her son, the Crown Prince Aegon, who took after his father in all ways, but had the Viper’s wild dark eyes. His expression was currently grim, for he had been injured in the last round of the tourney. Egg, as he was known to his near and dear, was sitting close to his sister Rhaenys, who took after her mother but had violet eyes. The Princess was also heavy with child, but had old Balerion on curled on her lap, whose black fur she was petting.

She was seated next to her uncle, Viserys, who was the King’s likeness in appearance but still wanting. Her uncle, who was some namedays her elder, was watching the tourney grimly: he had been ordered by his brother the night before to set sail on a Braavosi merchant ship in two days.

Before them were a dozen men on a ditch, heaving and grunting and punching each other, their blunted swords discarded and now long gone after an hour of fighting in the mud. Their surcoats and hair were so dirty that Rhaenys could not even tell who was who, let alone spot her husband from the crowd of fighting men.

Some of them were hedge knights, who had come for coin and perhaps patronage, and so fighting desperately for a future. Some would be young nobles, fighting for glory, or perhaps their father’s favour, or even that of the king. Two of them, Rhaenys knew, were part of her father’s Kingsguard: Ser Whent, whom she really did not care for, and her uncle Lewyn, to whom she gave her favour to rather than her lord husband.

Rhaenys then looked towards the crowds of spectators, jeering and cheering towards the fighters, laughing amongst themselves or even gazing towards the very stand she was seated in.

She saw the small-folk, such as vendors selling wares and farmers and their wives, shaking their fists as they cheered for the fighters. There were tailors in neat clothes and blacksmiths in blackened clothes who had left their stalls and forges. There were the children who played in the fields and had pushed and squeezed their way to the front of their stands, excitement dancing in their eyes.

There were the mercantile class who paid for less congested seats: women who fanned themselves from the heat and men who chuckled as another fighter fell to the ground. They were near the nobles from far and wide, cool in the shade and cool in their manner. They were being hosted in either Harrenhal’s dark rooms, or staying in lush tents on the sunny fields surrounding the castle.

There was a sudden roar which rang across the crowd as a champion emerged from the bodies of men in the mud, a large man who was still standing and limping towards Rhaegar’s stand.


	2. Chapter 2

It was truly revolting how smitten Egg was with his betrothed.

Egg never really liked to dance, for one, and was more than happy to sit with Rhaenys and exchange barbs about everyone else dancing instead.

He was now usually the first one to rise and rush over to Lady Margaery at any feast the moment the minstrels touched their instruments.

Sweet of face yet sharp-eyed, Lady Margaery had never done anything to slight Rhaenys, nor her mother, nor any members of her family. She was in fact amiable to everyone, and polite to Lyanna, but Mama had told her how very hard Lady Olenna had fought to make her granddaughter the future queen behind closed doors.

Strangely enough, it was a fight Mama had helped Lady Olenna win.

Rhaegar was adament on having Egg and Rhaenys wed to each other, but Mama tried to appeal to him, stating that madness ran though his family and that they needed more allies. Of course, Rhaegar did not really listen to, until Rhaella for once of agreed with Mama and _made_ Rhaegar understand.

While betrothing Margaery to Aegon seemed like a good idea at the time, perhaps Mama had not forseen the Tyrell’s ambition.

Rhaegar at first wanted Aegon married to Jon Connington’s daughter, but Mama and Rhaella had convinced him that the Tyrells had been loyal to him as well, and were the lords of the kingdom’s most fertile lands. In truth, both women were repelled by the idea of having Cersei Connington’s daughter and Tywin Lannister’s granddaughter join their family. Both father and daughter were in court very often and already very aggravating to begin with.

Although the Tyrells gave Mama less anxiety than the lions, it was still startling to see Lady Olenna inviting herself to become a regular fixture at royal family’s table. (Rhaegar had finished his meal with haste and took himself to go to the library, despite Lady Whent’s warnings that no one dared entered there in thirteen years.)

The old crone was now seated at their table with an indulgent look on her face as she watched Aegon lift the hem of Lady Margaery’s skirt from the floor lest it get ruined underfoot.

Lyanna was scowling at the sight, or perhaps she was scowling at the thought that Rhaegar had once again left her at the table, with child and all alone.

Once upon a time, Rhaegar actually _stayed_ for the dancing, and even played sickly sweet Northern melodies on his harp with the minstrels. Perhaps her father was becoming a bore and recluse as he aged, as for the last few years, he usually sat down in his library after eating to pore over tomes instead. At first, Lyanna joined him in his library, but over time, he had begun ignoring even her once he encountered a passage he was partial to.

It caused a fair amount of dark glee for a younger Rhaenys, seeing her father finally ignoring the new wife whom he used to ignore Rhaenys and Aegon for. In fact, no one apart from Tywin Lannister could separate Rhaegar from his study. (Mama occasionally deigned to assist him, once Rhaegar made the awe-inducing discovery after nine years of marriage that his wife knew more High Valyrian than he did.)

One of Lyanna’s surviving brothers was the Lord of Winterfell. He sent Lyanna one letter once a year, and happily complied with Rhaegar’s order for him nor any of his sons to go south of the Neck for the rest of their lives.

Her other brother, to Rhaenys’ knowledge, wore the black; whilst scarcely any Northerners had sent their daughters to be Lyanna’s companions as well. Perhaps they were deeply unimpressed by Lyanna’s scandalous elopement, or still seething because of the subsequent war which happened afterwards.

Mama herself was forbidden to go to Dorne with Aegon lest she come back with an army.

Oberyn was forbidden to come to King’s Landing altogether, lest he fulfil his very public vow to batter Rhaegar with his harp.

But at least Mama had the opportunity to return to her homeland twice after the war, to cheers and familiar faces. And Mama had her brothers’ support, the love of her companions and Ashara, who was currently dancing with a very pleased young squire.

Rhaenys rose from her seat with a beam on her face once she saw that amongst the dancers, Obara and Nymeria, clad in brown leathers rather than orange silks, were making their way to her. Stares followed the young women as they approached the lord’s table, as they strode in trousers with weapons on their person.

Obara and Nymeria dipped their heads towards Mama, ignored Lyanna and Lady Olenna, and sat next to Rhaenys in the seats Daenerys and Aegon had left behind.

“Where is Harry?” Nymeria asked while Obara scowled.

Rhaenys groaned. Her husband was with his men, no doubt, who were probably drinking in the nearby village. Yet after watching the indignities her mother suffered, Rhaenys was not very offended by Harry’s mistresses, unlike her cousins and brother.

Firstly, unlike Rhaenys' father, Harry had the courtesy to have his women far from her sight and mind; the sense to take only one clean girl at a time rather than visit whorehouses; and most importantly, he would _never_ put any of his bastards before the child Rhaenys would bear for him.

Formerly an inexperienced young knight who preferred spar in the yard with his companions, Harry did now take his duties as the Lord of the Vale seriously, particularly since he had heard that Rhaenys was with child. For all his faults, Rhaenys thought she had married well.

“Tell me about Doran instead,” Rhaenys said with a sigh as she rubbed her swollen womb, “How is his health?”

“His health is the same as always. Do not expect him to rise from his chair and start sparring with Oberyn one day,” Obara snapped as a tall, auburn-haired lady approached their table with two young girls at her heels.

“Your grace,” Rhaenys was uncertain if the lady had chosen to address Mama or Lyanna first as she curtseyed gracefully, “my lord husband conveys his greetings to you, and extends an invitation for Prince Viserys to visit Winterfell soon.”

Lyanna, was slumped on her seat and glumly watching Daenerys giggling with her bethrothed Wilas at his table. She sat a little straighter and looked as though she recognised the woman before her with clear excitement.

“Thank you Cat!,” she started, “please come to my rooms tomorrow, whenever you wish, for we are family. In fact, would you like to stay in my rooms with me and the girls for the rest of the tourney?” Lyanna inclined her head towards what Rhaenys presumed to be Lady Stark’s daughters.

“No, thank you Your Grace. We are most comfortable where we are, and I will be with you when I accompany you to King’s Landing and stay with you for your upcoming birth.”

As Lady Stark and Lyanna exchanged courtesies, Rhaenys observed Lady Stark’s two young girls. The older was her very likeness, in both looks and manner. The younger, however, was fidgeting, appeared very awkward in her plain gown and looked extremely unpleased to be here.

She also looked exactly like Lyanna.

However, the girl’s attention was not on her aunt, but on Obara, as the young girl regarded the small dagger at her waist with wide eyes.

“Do you know how to use that?” the dark haired girl, no more than eight, asked with a tone of awe in her voice.

“Yes, she does,” Nymeria replied with a charming smile, “but Obara was always better with her spear.”

Lady Stark looked embarrassed at her daughter’s line of questioning, while Lyanna’s face darkened. From the corner of her eye, Rhaenys saw Lady Olenna sipping on her wine and watching the whole exchange with a look of mirth.

Obara did not seem amenable to say anything to any Stark, but Rhaenys realised that Nymeria was playing a game.

“In fact, my sister and I were thinking of sparring together tomorrow, after riding around the fields nearby. Our uncle has provided our party with many different horses for the tourney.”

The younger daughter’s eyes went even wider.

“You can come and accompany us tomorrow,” Nymeria continued with a wink, “Be up and ready at sunrise, and we will come to your tent, if your mother is amenable.”

Both the girl and her mother’s mouths slightly dropped open.

“Please Mother!”

Rhaenys glanced briefly at Lyanna. Although Rhaenys had been with child for longer, it really felt as though Lyanna felt the weight of her state much more. The woman once aspired to be a knight long ago.

“Arya, I –“

“Lady Stark, I have yet to be introduced to your daughters,” Mama interrupted, “what are their names?”

Mama had a gentle voice, but thundering authority. Although Rhaegar had two queens, Mama was _the Queen._ Lyanna had made the mistake of neglecting her duties: she was so enchanted and absorbed by all the freedoms she had as Rhaegar's wife at first - being able to ride the best of Rhaegar's horses whenever she pleased; not having to attend court; not attending tedious high council meetings - but she made the fatal error of not establishing herself or allies within court sooner. Mama however took up a mantle of duties and sat in the King’s council.

Apart from Rhaegar and Tywin Lannister, Mama was the only other living person who had sat on the Iron Throne and passed judgement.

Despite this, Mama spoke very little and in private, and surrounded herself with other sombre ladies who never spoke ill about the other queen. Elia and her ladies kept their discussion limited to the weather or the price of clams.

Right now, Mama was bedecked in even more gold than in the afternoon. But Mama would have been equally impressive in a simple gown as well, judging by Lady Stark’s awed expression at being addressed by Elia, the Queen.

“My eldest, Sansa.” Lady Stark gestured to her elder daughter, who despite her young age was remarkably beautiful. The girl gave a perfect curtsey and looked extremely pleased upon seeing Mama smile at her softly.

“And Arya, my younger daughter.” Arya’s bow was much more graceless than her sister’s.

“You have a lovely family my lady,” Mama remarked while Lady Catelyn acknowledged the praise with quiet pride, “to my knowledge, you are also blessed with three sons?”

“Yes, Robb is my eldest, and he will be married once I return North, to Lord Karstark’s daughter. And then there is Brandon and Rickon. Bran hopes to be a knight one day.”

“I will speak to Rhaegar about Bran joining the King’s Guard, when the time comes and he has decided if that is his wish,” Lyanna interrupted. Rhaenys heard Lady Olenna taking a very loud sip from her wine; perhaps she had nearly choked on her drink.

Wonderful, Rhaenys thought. Another Stark in King’s Landing.

“Your gown has beautiful details, Lady Sansa.” Rhaenys said to the auburn haired girl instead, whose expression perked up at being addressed. 

“Thank you, your grace, ” the girl chirped, “I embroidered the wolves myself.”

“It is truly beautiful,” Rhaenys replied with a smile while leaning towards the girl, “For my name day, my father gifted me with some lovely bolts of fabrics and threads from Braavos.

"My needle is wasted on them,” Rhaenys continued, “but perhaps you may be interested in joining my ladies and myself while we embroider tomorrow, if your lady mother is amenable?"

Rhaenys had looked at what the lady and her daughters were wearing. As Lord Stark had received mercy from Rhaegar and kept both his life and titles (due to the killings of his father and brother, and some pleading from Lyanna), he was punished for his role in the Rebellion with steep taxes. Lady Catelyn, a dutiful wife, did not spend much of her husband’s coin, and dressed herself and her daughters neatly yet very simply.

“My thanks, your graces,” Lady Catelyn was now addressing Mama, Rhaenys and Nymeria as Lyanna watched the exchange very dolefully, “both of my daughters have my permission to join you tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaenys woke to noises and shouts coming from the next room. She rose and saw Obara already awake and on already her feet, but Nym was still curled up inside her covers. Rhaenys winced when she heard the sounds of pained moans coming from the rooms next to hers, which were currently being occupied by Lyanna.

Guessing that Lyanna was perhaps in labour, Rhaenys held her own womb reassuringly for a moment before draping herself in a shawl and rushing out barefoot behind Obara, feeling Balerions’ soft fur at her ankles as she went to out of her rooms to the corridor.

It was chaos here, with ladies and servants and maids outside Lyanna’s doors in dim candle light. Mama and Ashara were there amidst the bustle, along with a harried Lady Whent who was directing servants carrying cloths stained with too much blood.

“She’s giving birth far too soon, she’s bleeding too much.” Rhaenys whispered as Nymeria winced upon hearing Lyanna’s moans.

The procession of servants coming in and out of Lyanna’s room with hot water and leaving with bloody cloths continued. At one point, a maester along with a harrowed Lady Stark in her nightclothes came bustling in. Rhaenys thought she could hear her father’s voice outside the passageway. Lyanna’s moans were ringing in her ears and Rhaenys saw some ladies clutch each other, and some even praying quietly to the Mother. Even Cersei Connington looked pale by the sounds of pain coming from Lyanna’s room until she left eventually left the scene.

Rhaenys did feel some pity as the midwife say something about Lyanna having given birth to two stillborn daughters.

She then looked to her mother, who was staring right back at her. Rhaenys had never seen Mama look so _frightened_ before.

Rhaenys thought she heard someone remark, perhaps Allerie Hightower, remark that Lyanna had at least survived the ordeal and lost no sons, at least.

Cersei Lannister came in, her eyes wild and vicious, a small vial in her hand and ranting about finding poison inside Mama’s rooms.

The ringing inside Rhaenys’ ears was too loud, she could barely even hear nor see anyone as she felt herself being pushed against a wall. Mama was besides her, somehow she had been pushed there too and now supporting Rhaenys as she collapsed onto the ground. In front of them both and the rest of the crowd was Ashara and her cousins. The last thing Rhaenys heard was the familiar sharp sound of Obara unsheathing her dagger.

X

Rhaenys had been knocking on the door continuously until her knuckles began to bruise. Despondent that either no one was on the other side, nor seemed inclined to let her go, she went back to sitting on the small bed she found herself lying in when she had awoken.

When she had regained consciousness, Rhaenys discovered she was in a sparse chamber. There single bed with a chamber pot beneath it. There was a small high window from where she could see that it was daybreak, and below it, a table laden with a jug of water and a plate of bread and cheese. She wrinkled her nose upon seeing the cheese – ever since Rhaenys had been with child, no cheeses had not suited her. Feeling a little famished, Rhaenys ate some of her bread and waited.

She was not sure when or how long she spent in this room, but every second was maddening.

For all she knew, her mother could be at trial at this very moment. Rhaenys was also uncertain whether her cousins were unharmed and free, as she knew that Obara in particular was quick to anger at times and would defend her family’s honour with a temper. She also feared for Aegon, and wondered if he was with Mama, writing to Doran and Oberyn at this very moment or perhaps even appealing for Rhaenys’ own release. Perhaps Harry was helping him, for Harry did care about his unborn heir at the very least. 

Rhaenys wondered if it was really poison which killed those girls. Lyanna had not even been with child for a very long time, or perhaps she had but was quick to hide any dead children. In her earlier years at court, Lyanna had been the wife more attended to by Rhaegar, and Jon the favoured son; so perhaps she had ladies and handmaids who had something to gain by being loyal to the favoured queen. Rhaegar had fancied himself in love all those years ago to the stubborn Northerner, but Rhaenys thought that Lyanna was far too different for Rhaegar, and that her novelty had worn over time.

What did Cersei Lannister stand to gain from accusing _the_ _queen_ of poisoning? Hopefully, that vile woman would be banished from court for her baseless accusation, and besides, Cersei was perhaps alone when she ‘found’ the vial. Rhaenys had thought she heard Ashara mention in passing before the days of her wedding something about Cersei wanting to be queen herself once, but Rhaenys was hard pressed to understand how accusing Mama of poisoning Lyanna could achieve this. Besides, Aegon was already betrothed to Margaery, and after this incident, he would not look at Cersei, her husband Lord Connington or their daughter favourably again.

Eventually, the heavy door creaked open once sunlight had begun to reach the room. It was Ser Oswell Whent, Rhaenys noted with irritation. He was one of the Kingsguard, alongside Arthur Dayne and Gerold Hightower, who had accompanied Lyanna to give birth to Jon in _Dorne,_ and were loyal to her and dismissive of Mama ever since.

“Ser Oswell, am I free to go?”

He did not answer, but took her half-finished plate and chamber pot away while Rhaenys followed him.

“Where is Aegon, where is my lord husband?”

Ser Oswell slammed the door on her face.

X

Ser Whent was back after many hours, with another plate of bread and cheese and an empty chamber pot. Rhaenys rose from the bed, clutching her womb as Ser Oswell was placing the chamber pot under her bed, and then ran to the door. It was locked, but it was no bother.

Rhaenys faced Ser Oswell instead and glared at him.

“I will not move aside until you tell me what has happened and why I have been placed here!”

“Move aside, Your Grace.”

“No, I am not asking for a terribly large favour. I have a right to know why I am being detained at least and the comfort of knowing if _both_ queens are well.”

“I have far too many duties this morning to explain – “

“Why has not Egg come to me at least?”

“I must leave now –“

Rhaenys realised that Ser Oswell would leave her imprisoned in the chamber without any qualms. It was little use attempting to appeal to him for her release or any answers.

“Very well, Ser Oswell,” Rhaenys started slowly as he was unlocking the latch of her door to leave this room, “But may I have something else with this bread apart from these cheeses. The bread alone may not be enough for me.”

Rhaenys heard him scoff as he opened the door and left.

Bracing herself, she viciously chewed and swallowed every morsel of cheese from her plate.

X

Rhaenys’ braids were being held back by Rhaella’s ladies as she spewed the contents of her belly onto a chamber pot. She could hear the raised voices of her lord husband and some other men behind the locked door, and bit back a smile, before feeling the sharp acid of bile sting her throat, forcing her to heave again.

Rhaegar’s mother was seated on her cot, wrinkling her nose at the scene while a servant scurried in with towels and a jug of water, leaving the door ajar where a crowd of guards and her husband’s knights were. Rhaenys spat out the last of the sick into the chamber pot and let herself sway so that the ladies had no choice but to support her as they made their way to the cot so that Rhaenys could lie down. She reclined, did not care if her foot accidentally hit Rhaella, then closed her eyes and made sure to moan weakly for the audience outside her room.

“You – Oswell! If you have neglected my heir and his mother, then you will answer to me!”

“Let our liege see his wife, you donkey!”

“I am not to let you in this room, my Lord Hardyng.”

“I have her cat, my lord, let him inside with our lady so she can receive _some_ comfort!”

A chorus of "Aye" followed, and Rhaenys felt her dear baby’s familiar little tongue licking her fingers.

Rhaenys heard some murmurs, the footsteps of those outside leave, then croaked at the servant to go and get Balerion some water.

“I did not think a little cheese would upset your constitution so much.” Her grandmother’s pointed voice began.

“I tried to explain this to my father’s knight,” Rhaenys whispered, her eyes still shut, “but he refused to listen.”

“You could have not eaten the cheeses.”

“I had not been served anything the whole day, and that _measly_ amount of bread was not enough for me and my little heir.”

Rhaella sighed with impatience, but then surprised Rhaenys.

“Your Mama is being detained as well right now, and as your cousins, all in separate rooms. Elia has been questioned, in private, and some other ladies too.”

“Is she still being detained?”

“Yes.”

“Was it poison?” Rhaenys asked slowly.

“They have not established this, but my son believes this to be so.” Rhaella murmured while she gathered her skirts and rose from Rhaenys’ cot.

“Where is Egg? Lady Connington?”

“Lady Connington has been detained,” Rhaella said, “you should have seen that happening.” She added with a ladylike snort.

“Your brother attacked Ser Arthur, who has been keeping your mother in her room,” Rhaella added as she approached the door, “the boy should have thought twice about attacking him, because now he lies unconscious under lock and key. And your husband has been attempting to speak to you since sunrise, but Rhaegar has forbidden him from visiting you until all the questioning has been completed.”

“Thank you grandmother,” Rhaenys responded stiffly as Rhaella knocked on the locked doors.

“I promise you that I will personally go to Rhaegar and appeal to him to release you within the next hour,” Rhaella responded as she studied her bangle and waited for someone to open the door, “But will you need anything until then?”

“Yes,” Rhaenys responded with a bright smile, “Please ask Ser Oswell to empty this pot himself.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Updated after a gazillion years, so wrote an extra long chapter.

“If there had been no poison involved, would you still have been pleased if Her Grace had given birth to still born daughters?”

Rhaenys blinked at Jon Connington’s audacity. She looked to her father, who continued to have his back turned from her as he looked out the window; and to Lord Mace, who at least looked embarrassed and gave a nervous laugh.

“Now, now,” Lord Mace started, “let’s not discuss hypotheticals –“

“Of course not. I – I would _never_. It would bode ill for me as well,” Rhaenys let her hand rest on her child, “It is not a good omen, and this news would not have pleased me at all.”

In truth, Rhaenys would have probably met the news with indifference, but she knew when it was appropriate to act upset.

“There, there,” Lord Mace’s portly figure approached her and he guided her towards a seat.

Lord Tywin, Rhaenys noticed, did not seem very interested with the proceedings at all, and his attention seemed to be occupied by a letter he was reading. His indifference was a contrast to Connington’s zealousness : he had personally gone to the kitchen to find the damned flagon of poisoned mead, and he gave it a place of honour at Rhaegar’s solar.

“All you need to do is recount the events from last evening during the feast,” Lord Mace said very slowly and gently, as though being with child had muddled her brains. Rhaenys had enough wits and manners to smile at him gratefully and resist the urge to throw something at her father, who was still looking out of the window, instead.

“I was…seated next to my brother, who was seated next to my uncle Viserys at the end of the table. On my other side was Mama... Mama was obviously seated with Papa, with Ly – Queen Lyanna on his other side. Seated next to Queen Lyanna was Viserys, my brother, and then the Queen Mother. At Queen Mother’s other side was Daenerys, who sat at the other side of the table.”

“Very good,” Lord Tywin drawled without looking away from his letter, “you have just told us what the other eighty odd people in the hall last night could have as well.”

“A little more on what happened,” Lord Mace said, “when – let us start from when His Grace left.”

“Yes, well father finished rather quickly and left, along with Visy – my uncle, my lords - some moments later after stating that he would be going to the small make shift village nearby. I remember Aegon being the first to rise for dancing the moment the minstrels began to play…then, I do not recall if it was Daenerys or Viserys first who left their seats, but I believe both of them must have left around the same time or even together as they sat together – please forgive me, I was at the other side of the table.”

“No, my dear, please continue.” Lord Mace continued while Jon Connington began to tap his foot on the ground impatiently. Father was as still as one of the statues at the Sept, and equally silent.

“Yes…Lady Olenna had approached the table,” Rhaenys looked towards Lord Mace’s direction and quickly added, “she came and sat on Daenerys’ seat. She spoke to the Queen Mother for some time, like they always do. They are such good friends.”

Rhaella actually did her best to avoid Lady Olenna, complaining that she was far too fast for her.

“The Queen Mother was feeling a little light headed – she was at the tourney today, and spending too much time in the sunshine does not suit her constitution. She wanted to leave after having supper, but she decided to stay once the servants came in to bring – what do you call those poached pears with that hot syrup, Lord Mace? It was delicious, and I do want to send my compliments to Lady Whent.”

“Oh, yes my dear, I recall them from last night. Very delightful, the pears were from Highgarden –“

Lord Tywin gave a dry cough.

“So naturally,” Lord Mace cleared his throat and straightened his back very pompously, “the servants must have taken your dishes and silver away.”

“Yes, yes, they did.” Rhaenys replied, “and then the Queen Mother, after eating, quickly made her excuses and left. Lady Olenna stayed in her seat and then – Viserys returned briefly to his seat, to check on his mother after tiring of dancing. He is very attentive for someone so young, my lords. He wanted to make sure his mother, Queen Lyanna, was not lonely.”

Rhaenys was of course addressing her father.

“Then my brother Viserys greeted Lady Olenna, left and then –“

Rhaenys hesitated. Her cousins approached the table around this time. Then again, they had not even sat close to Lyanna, and were near Rhaenys for the whole night.

“My cousins, Nymeria and Obara, came to our table and sat next to me. They sat on Aegon and Prince Viserys’ seats.”

“Your cousins were on the table then?” Lord Tywin said sharply.

“Yes.” Rhaenys replied, her voice hard. She was a little nervous to notice that he was now more attentive to her than his letter.

“Continue.”

“Lady Stark approached us with her daughters. She stood and spoke to Queen Lyanna, Mama, me and even my cousins, before Queen Lyanna bid her to sit next to her.”

“And what of Lady Stark’s daughters?”

“Sat between her mother and Lady Olenna.”

“There was only one seat between Lady Olenna and Lady Stark – one of the daughters took what was your grandmother’s seat.”

Rhaenys felt her blood run cold.

Nymeria had given up her seat upon seeing Arya fidgeting, and dragged it between Lady Stark and Lyanna, for Lyanna wanted to see Arya closer, exclaiming that she looked far too much like the brother she pined for and missed.

“I do not recall this level of detail,” Rhaenys’ mouth was dry, and she gestured to Lord Mace for something to drink, “I do remember leaving the table with my cousins a few moments later. We went to our rooms soon afterwards, as we had no desire to dance.”

“Your account is the most vivid we have had so far, and you were able to recall the food.” Connington replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Come, Jon, everyone would remember those pears,” Lord Mace chuckled as he handed Rhaenys a goblet.

Father then turned around to face her, but somehow his eyes never met hers.

“We suspect poison, my lords,” Connington said, “and from this flagon of mead. Jon went to the kitchens and found that unfortunately, the servants had not disposed of the wine. One serving boy who indulged in the wines brought from the tables choked to death last night after drinking from this flagon.”

He pointed dramatically to the silver flagon, which glinted ominously in the sunlight which seeped into the solar.

“The cook had enough wits to keep the flagon unmolested and give it to Ser Arthur. Lady Whent’s maester and Pycelle are working to determine if as we speak if poison found in Elia’s rooms could be the one in the wine.” Connington continued.

“And it has not been established if it was poison altogether,” Rhaenys noticed Connington had not used her mother’s title, “for only one person, _with no witnesses present_ , claimed to have ‘found’ what she supposes to be poison in the Queen’s rooms.”

Lord Tywin shot her a withering look which would have frightened Rhaenys if she was not so _angry_ , while Father of course ignored her altogether.

“We will need to speak with the servants and those in the kitchens next to know who had access to all our food and wine," Rhaegar's voice cut through the silence. He was still staring out the window, "The poison though, could have been from the mead and placed to deliberately target Ly. I do recall ordering two jugs of wine to Ly and Mother’s side of the table last night, before I left them. One was a cask of sour Dornish, for Mother, and the other was sweat mead, for Ly, as she dislikes most wines now that she is – she was – with child…”

‘How sweet of Father to be so attentive,’ Rhaenys thought as she barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“If I say so myself, Your Grace,” Lord Tywin started, “but the Princess raises a sound argument. It is possible the Queen Lyanna was not poisoned at all, but that her children did truly die in her womb. This has not been an uncommon occurrence for her in the past.”

The implicit insult may have passed through Lord Mace’s ears, but both Rhaenys and Lord Connigton’s mouths dropped open. Rhaegar turned around to give Lord Tywin a sharp look, but it was Connington, of course, who opened his mouth.

“Queen Lyanna is young, hale and fertile,” Connington stuttered with anger at his good father, as though he had been personally insulted.

“Have you even spoken to the Maester about what happened at the birth?,” Lord Tywin asked pointedly to father.

Although Rhaenys did not like Lord Tywin at all, it was amusing to see Rhaegar’s obtuseness and ego challenged by someone with an actual sharp mind.

“Yes,” Rhaegar said, “The Maester _you_ installed here, Pycelle.”

“Did Pycelle attend to Lyanna’s labour, or was it Lady Whent’s Maester?” Tywin retorted.

Rhaegar and Connington’s silence answered his question.

Rhaenys cleared her throat, to remind the men in the room of her presence.

“You are free to leave,” Rhaegar was not even looking at her now, but now approaching his desk to look at some papers.

"Your Grace," Tywin asked Rhaegar, "Have you told Lady Hardying about my grand-daughters?"

"Oh yes," Rhaegar replied, briefly glancing at Rhaenys before attending to his desk again, "Lord Jaime's daughter will wed Viserys, and Lord Connington's daughter is bethrothed to your brother Viserys."

Rhaenys blinked. Clearly, the Lord Hand was infiltrating their family with as many of his golden haired spawn as he could.

"It gives me great pleasure to welcome two of your grand-daughters to our family," Rhaenys said with a soft smile as she rose from her seat.

Not wanting to stay in her father's obnoxious obnoxious presence further, and keen to see Aegon so that they could write to Doran, Rhaenys was quick to rise from her seat and leave.

X

Of course, she was being followed.

Ser Oswell’s great form trailed behind Rhaenys. His armour clanged and cluttered, and he did not even bother to disguise his presence or at least open the doors for her as she passed through the rooms and halls where the royal family were staying in Harrenhal.

Rhaenys and her unwanted shadow strode to Aegon’s rooms, which were nearest, and saw two Targaryen knights who allowed her access to her brother's rooms. 

Aegon was still unconscious, his skin even paler than usual with a large purple bruise blooming on his temple. Rhaenys felt herself bristling with anger – at Ser Arthur, for doing this to her brother, at her father, at Lyanna – until she composed herself and began to unbutton and remove her brother’s surcoat and boots as no one else had bothered to do so. Her efforts seemed to rouse her brother to awaken. Rhaenys seated herself on his bed and began to wipe the sweat off his forehead, whispering assurances that he was away from harm.

Tampering her annoyance upon noticing Ser Oswell, who had invited himself inside as well, Rhaenys ordered him to bring some servants to bring some rags, water and something soft and warm for her brother to eat.

Most of her afternoon was spent at her barely lucid brother’s side. Rhaenys was leaving Aegon’s rooms when Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery bothered to come in, with one of the knights at the door at their heels

“The King did say Lady Margaery was permitted to enter –“

“I understand, good Ser, please return to your post and I will return to you in a moment,” Rhaenys replied as she turned to Lady Olenna, who stood at a distance from the bed. Margaery took Aegon’s limp hand and kissed his palm whilst gazing at him as though she were a sailor’s wife being reunited with her husband after a twenty year journey.

“Lady Olenna, thank you for visiting my brother. Have you heard some news of my mother, cousins, uncle and Lady Ashara?”

“You can try to visit them, my dear, but you won’t be able to go past their guard.” Rhaenys noticed that Lady Olenna spoke as though this whole situation was amusing rather than distressing. Then again, it perhaps was providing some lively entertainment for all apart from her family.

X

Rhaenys was surprised and pleased to see Harry outside Egg’s rooms alongside his friend, Ser Waynewood. He looked agitated, and his hair somewhat rumpled, as though he had run his had through his golden hair quite a few times.

“Ray,” he breathed in relief, “I was told by your good mother that your father released you. Are you fine?” Harry finished awkwardly.

“I am most well,” Rhaenys responded with a wan smile while taking her husband’s arm, “but I am afraid.”

“I have wrote to Prince Doran, and have exchanged my displeasure with your father for arresting you and keeping you in a room that does not befit your status.”

“I thank you,” Rhaenys replied, “I wish not to say more until we reach our rooms.”

Once they were within the privacy of their own rooms, Harry’s young squire gave Rhaenys a shy smile and some water and cut fruits. Rhaenys briefly hesitated before eating and passing some of her fare to Harry.

“If it is poison, I don't think your Mama did it,” Harry cut through the silence, looking thoughtful.

Rhaenys raised her eyebrows, and Harry looked flustered and even more boyish.

“Your Mama…she's clever. And if she wanted to harm Queen Lyanna, she would've done so already, not once her son Viserys was nearly a man. And there's no dispute that Aegon will be king. Queen Elia's too ...gracious for poison,” Harry ruffled his hair, “I don't mean to flatter you falsely, but she's more... _loved_ than Lyanna. I feel like the motive…is not there.”

Rhaenys smiled softly at Harry.

“I share your thoughts, and I thank you for writing to my uncle, as time is of the essence. You gave the letter to Lady Whent’s maester, yes?”

“Yes, Pycelle was attending to Prince Viserys - your brother. He's ill again.”

“He has been ill for some time, and with Lyanna’s loss last night – I should not say this being with child myself – but I believe she may have sickly children who either struggle in the womb or after birth. She has only had one child who lives, and he is weak.”

“I'd agree with you, but you've heard about the serving boy from last night?” Harry asked while Rhaenys nodded.

Rhaenys was then urged by Harry to rest again and eat some more before attempting to see her mother and cousins.

“Surely the Kingsguard cannot refuse you if you come with me and my knights,” Harry proudly said before kissing her forehead once she was tucked into her covers.

He left their rooms, and Rhaenys idly wondered who was his lady companion these days before sleep took her.

X

Rhaenys was alarmed and annoyed that Harry did not tell her that Nym and Obara were being held in the dungeons, citing his concern for her to rest as she carried his child.

Annoyed, she quickly changed and washed her face before dragging Harry’s squire to accompany her to Harrenhall’s odious dungeons. She was well and truly reeling by Rhaegar – or perhaps Tywin’s – audacity to hold her cousins here. If Lady Whent were to be believed, no prisoner had haunted the cells in two decades.

“Ser Barristan, why are my cousins _here?_ ”

Ser Barristan, who was of an advanced age but still hale and strong, stood straight and tall outside the door to the cells. The ancient sconces around him were lit at least, and the fire light reached his watchful blue eyes.

“Princess,” he bowed his head, but did not move from his place, “I have been forbidden to let you see your cousins.”

“Are they prisoners, Ser? What crime have they committed?”

“They are being held here for your family’s safety, and their own.”

“Nym and Obara are my family! I wonder what Prince Oberyn will say when he finds that his daughters are being held in a filthy cold dungeon,” Rhaenys replied sharply, “If they have not been charged with a crime, then I do not understand why I must not see them immediately.”

“You should have asked your father –“

“His Grace is a busy man, he does not care to listen to the whims of his daughter, and clearly hasty to reach conclusions,” Rhaenys motioned to the cells her cousins were imprisoned in impatiently.

“Your father is an honourable man –“

Rhaenys snorted.

Rhaegar was lauded as a good king and honourable man by those in court, and it was a phrase oft used to describe him by his Kingdguard. It was other honourable men such as these knights who annoyed Rhaenys the most; those who were staunch in their duties. Men _always_ defended other men, and were loyal to each other first. An honourable man was a man who did not hurt other men – which is why Rhaegar was honourable despite hurting his wife; which is why the honourable Kingsguard did not stop their vicious king, Aerys, from hurting his wife; and why they let the people and world around them burn.

The most honourable man, Rhaenys thought, was the one who had the courage to gut the Mad King and protect the women and babes in his charge. He was ironically condemned as a Kingslayer, a man without honour, and only escaped punishment because of Tywin's wily ways.

Lord Jaime was called ‘lucky’ for escaping punishment, but it was all but an open secret that he did what Rhaegar intended to do had he not ran off with a woman-child.

“Has my honourable father, His Grace, allowed me to provide for his guests’ comfort at least? Have they been condemned to lie abed flea-bitten pallets and be fed mouldy bread?”

“Lady Ashara has already provided blankets and clean bedding for Prince Oberyn’s daughters,” Ser Barristan replied with a raised brow, “and your own maid has been visiting these dungeons to give them fresh bread.”

Rhaenys’ face was on fire. She hoped Ser Barristan was not admonishing her for not seeing to her cousins’ comfort sooner.

“Very well, Ser Barristan,” Rhaenys said stiffly.

X

Rhaenys decided to visit her Mama next, with Harry’s squire at her heels.

Ser Arthur it seemed was not guarding Mama’s rooms any longer, but two Lannister knights. They of course forbade her from seeing Mama, before sending Rhaenys on her way.

Rhaenys felt a migraine begin to plague her overtaxed head as she made her way back to her rooms, until she was stopped -

“Rhaenys!” it was Ashara, rushing towards her, her gown elegantly trailing behind the lady. The shadows under her eyes was an indication that Mama’s friend had not rested easy as well, “Come with me to my chambers, I must speak to you now.”

Rhaenys felt some relief for the first time since last night.

Rhaenys was not surprised to see that Balerion had taken residence at Ashara’s bed, and was lazily licking his black fur. This had been the case since she was a young girl.

“Thank you for finding me,” Rhaenys said earnestly while they sat down on the bed around her cat.

Ashara was pouring herself a large goblet of wine, and then drank it all within two swallows. She slammed the goblet down onto a table, and then bit her lip.

Even in stress and deep in her cups, Ashara still managed to be graceful, Rhaenys thought dryly.

“I have also not been able to speak to Elia since this morning,” Ashara’s voice was hoarse, “I have also wrote to Doran, to my brother, to Oberyn; and then I tried to find you. Then, I went to the kitchens to find some answers about the mead flagon which the whole castle is claiming to have poisoned Lyanna.”

“You found something?”

“Yes,” Ashara licked her lips, “I assume you know about that serving boy who died – yes? – I spoke to two serving girls in the kitchen who claimed that this boy – Samy, I think they called him. They claim he drank the mead as well from a used goblet, but was also gorging himself on leftover meats and fruit too. After a few moments, Samy told one of the girls he was feeling light headed and he collapsed to the ground. He was struggling to breathe, but it was a quick death.”

“But why are they so certain that the mead is not the culprit?”

“Because those two girls were the ones who sneaked many sips of the mead from that flagon – it was the only flagon with sweet mead which was served last night. It was only meant for Lyanna.”

“But then how did this serving boy die?”

Ashara took a deep breath before speaking.

“One of the girls has known the boy and his family. Samy had always been sickly since they were babes, and always frail and pale. Occasionally, at random times, he would start having fits since he was a child, and it caused his mother a great deal of distress. His family are small folk in the lands around Harrenhall, he was only here to serve for the tourney.”

“So the boy died after eating – that does support the poison theory.”

“But this boy had been very ill for a fortnight, since the tourney began. Then the strenuous activities he had to complete may have been too much for him. This girl said that his constitution was even worse this past week, perhaps because he was overtaxed.”

“So,” Rhaenys started, “this last chance fit he had was fatal?”

Ashara nodded.

“Mama is being treated like a prisoner, not Rhaegar’s Queen,” Rhaenys started gravely, “if she is made to stand trial, there is no turning back, even if she absolved of all crimes.”

“Yes, she will be humiliated. It is possible that it could be a plot by Tywin and Connington to discredit Elia.”

“So we are both agreeing that there was no poison used?”

“It is the only possible explanation. How else did two girls drink generously from this flagon and not fall ill?”

Rhaenys massaged her temples, and they both sat in companionable silence for some time.

“Cersei is Tywin’s daughter and Connington’s wife,” Rhaenys started slowly, “Both men do not like how Elia sits in the small council, how she sits upon the Iron Throne, that Rhaegar lends her his ear at times.”

“This girl – Janna, and her friend…I cannot recall her name, my nerves are rattled," Ashara poured herself more wine, "I have paid Lady Whent to let me keep her in my rooms, safe. In the event, Gods forbid, a trial happens, her testimony could be vital –“

“Please Ashara, let me pay for the girls, and keep them with Harry and I. He is a Lord Paramount, he has knights to protect them from trouble makers.”

“Oh Ray,” Ashara cupped her face in her hand, “I am your second Mama. It is no trouble, but you speak wisely, the girls are safer with you.”

Rhaenys did feel some certainty and ease for the first time in a day.

“My thanks –“

“Don’t be ridiculous Ray, I have helped raised you since you were a babe, and Elia is my sister. Have some berries, you should be eating for two in your condition,” Ashara placed another tray of nuts and fruits on the bed.

“Whatever will become of Nym and Obara?”

“This is one factor which is causing me unease as well – I do not know why they have been placed in the cells.” Ashara answered, chewing on some nuts.

“Why were you not – um, arrested?”

“Oh,” Ashara replied lightly, “I was with Ser Barristan last night, his testimony as to my whereabouts was believed by your father.”

‘Ser Barristan’s not very _honourable_ , breaking his vows,’ Rhaenys thought.

Suddenly, both ladies heard a scream from outside Ashara’s rooms. Balerion’s black fur shot up and her fat cat stood in alarm.

Rhaenys and Ashara scurried outside to the hall, and watched with open mouths as Ser Arthur and Ser Whent dragged Viserys, who was fiercly resisting their iron grips. Rhaella was screaming and being held back by Lord Connington.

“Where are you taking him?” she screeched at Lord Connighton, whose face was bright red with exertion as Rhaella scratched at his face.

“Your Grace, I have already stated that he is being arrested by His Grace King Rhaegar as a potential threat to the peace.”

“When did Rhaegar start throwing people into cells because he suspects –“

“The same was done with Prince Oberyn’s daughters.”

Viserys, who was slim and no warrior, was no match for the might of two of father’s Kingsguard. His pale face was twisted in ugly hatred, and Rhaenys felt her heart twitch at his anger.

“Tell my brother to face me _himself_ in whatever damned cell he places me in,” Viserys grit out from clenched teeth, “he can tell me why in the Seven Hells he thinks _I_ would give a single shit about his wolf-bitch!”


End file.
